Six: Put a Ring on it
The dinner with Max's family had been fun. They'd started off by sharing a big ass plate of nachos, and laughed as they'd tried to detach the chips from the gooey mess, dangling long strings of cheese. But Chloe had spent much of the meal with a pang in her chest. It had reminded her of family meals when her dad had still been around.
Now, back in their tent, it was a relief really to have something else to focus on. After sifting through all the dirt in the metal box, they had found a small collection of objects besides the unreadable papers and water-crinkled photos. There was the memento box, still locked; Susan's hospital bracelet; a Blackwell school ring–class of '90; a coaster from a sleazy-looking bar; and a pamphlet advertising a New Year's Eve bash for December 31, 1994.
Chloe had set out the assorted collection on a blanket between them. For a minute they sat and just stared at the items, but nothing was going to happen by just looking at them. And Chloe found she did want know what had happened, why they were getting these glimpses at the lives of two girls a decade in the past. Picking up the ring, she inspected the Blackwell insignia and then dropped it into the palm of her hand and held it out to Max. "Shoulda put a ring on it."
"Wrong decade, Beonce." But then Max placed her hand over Chloe's palm. The instant Max's skin touched the ring, the tent vanished.
#
When Max opened her eyes, she found herself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling in a room flooded by sunlight. She lay flat on her back, a pillow tucked under her head, a sheet draped over her. And considering the way the sheet tickled her skin, she was fairly certain that she was completely and utterly naked.
A rustling sound to the left drew her attention. She turned her head only to see a bare-shouldered Chloe lying under the same sheet next to her. With a wicked grin, Chloe peeked under the sheet. "Oh-la-la. What have you been up to, Max?"
Max yelped and pulled the sheet down over herself, blushing at the eyeful of Chloe skin she'd just gotten.
Chloe was grinning from ear to ear. "I hate to tell you this, Maxaroni, but it looks like you've misplaced all your clothes."
"Me? What about you?"
She peeked under the covers again. "They're gone too. Amazeballs. What a coincidence."
Max could feel herself flushing. By now she was used to cuddling close to Chloe at night, and seeing her in her skivvies when she got changed. But it hadn't prepared her for how much more intimate this was, lying inches apart, not even fabric separating their bodies.
Chloe rolled over onto her side, propping her head up on her elbow, the length of her body pressing into Max's side. Max gasped. She could feel Chloe's every dip and curve, feel the heat of her skin seeping into her. Her touch was electrifying and terrifying all at once, sending shivers up and down Max's spine.
Leaning in close, Chloe's lips brushed the line of Max's jaw. "I told you," she said, her voice low, barely more than a breathy whisper.
"Huh?" It was hard to focus on Chloe's words with her lips brushing her neck and the heat of her skin so close.
Chloe's lips tickled her earlobe and she could feel her hot breath on her cheek. "I told you they were having hot monkey sex."
Max burst into a fit of giggles. Chloe grinned down at her. "Okay, you win," Max said through her laughter.
"Do I get a prize?"
As her giggles subsided, Max looked up into Chloe's smiling face and let her gaze rest in Chloe's blue eyes. She felt calmer somehow. Okay she was totally naked in bed with her girlfriend and it was all sudden and totally overwhelming. But it was also Chloe. Her Chloe.
"You are blushing so hard, hippie," Chloe murmured as she leaned in, her lips tickling Max's ear.
Max drew back a bit so she could peer at her with a raised eyebrow. "Chloe, are you trying to take advantage of the situation?"
"I'm improvising." Her lips travelled down Max's neck and Max let her fingers tangle in Chloe's hair. "You holding out for a white wedding?"
"Illegal in Oregon," Max murmured, letting her eyes slide closed.
"Elope."
A fist pounded on the bedroom door and they broke apart like startled cats. "Oh shit," Chloe said, laughing even as she sprang up out of bed. "Get some clothes on. We are so busted."
The pounding continued. "Susan?" A man's voice. "Susan, you open this door right now goddammit."
Max sat up and peered around for clothes, still clutching the sheet to herself, unlike Chloe who was not one bit shy. Max did her best to avert her eyes.
It looked like Michelle was a planner, because there was a neatly folded outfit waiting on the corner of a nearby desk, including underthings and accessories. And while the acid wash jeans and glittery top were even less her style than Rachel's outfits, Max preferred cosplaying to rude and nude.
The door shuddered under the continued banging. "Have you got that girl in there with you?"
"Which one?" Chloe called back. "It's so hard to keep track of them all."
Fumbling over the hooks of her bra, Max cast an anxious glance towards the door. A dresser had been pushed up against it, much to her relief. It made it a little easier to get herself dressed, knowing that an angry man wasn't about to burst into the room. Her fingers began going through the motions of pulling on her things and finally she noticed the ring on her finger, the Blackwell Academy ring that she and Chloe had found in the box.
While the man–Susan's father, she supposed– was yelling, Chloe caught Max's eye and pointed to a pile of duffle bags packed to bursting. "Looks like they did some serious packing."
"Leaving town packing?"
"Away from the Bay. Sounds good to me."
Max felt a pang of regret. It was because of her that Chloe had come back here to Arcadia Bay and to all this drama. Maybe Chloe had been right and they should've just stayed in Seattle. Her parents had certainly hoped Max would return to her old school, settle back into her old life. But they didn't know what her decisions had cost Arcadia Bay, or how much she wanted to find away to do something–anything–that might make things even a tiny bit better.
"That date with Stewart probably didn't go too well," Chloe said, as she tugged on a pair faded and ripped black jeans. "Guess they couldn't straighten her out. Get it? She's gay?" Max rolled her eyes and pulled on her sparkly T-shirt.
Chloe, now donning a mix of leather and denim, joined Max on her side of the room and slung an arm around her shoulders. "Decision time, Maximus. Door number one..." She pointed at the shuddering door from which streamed a series of threats and curses. "Or..." And there she turned to indicate the bedroom window, "A conveniently placed escape route to freedom."
Glancing at the door, Max grimaced and turned to look up into Chloe's grinning face. Funny, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. Of course she did take special pleasure out of pissing people off. "Definitely the window."
Chloe opened the window and they clambered out without looking back.
#
Max blinked and she was back in the protective embrace of their lime green canvas home. Her hand was still reaching out, palm pressed against Chloe's. She wrapped her fingers around Chloe's and clutched that outstretched hand.
Chloe squeezed her fingers in return. "Booyah! Another daring escape by the Blackwell ninjas."
Max squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the shuddering bedroom door and Susan's father yelling from the other side. "Chloe, that was awful."
"Awful? I guess I need to work on my seduction technique."
"Not that part," Max said smiling even as a blush crept up her cheeks again. "But Susan's dad..."
"Asswipe makes David look like fucking Santa Claus."
Releasing Chloe's hand, she took the class ring and inspected it. "It was Michelle's."
"So she was a Blackwell brat too."
Max's fist tightened around the ring. She had not planned to purchase one, even before the Blackwell shitstorm last month. The school ring might be marginally less tacky than average (silver with the engraved school crest and no jewel) but it was still not the sort of bling she was looking for. She was quite happy with her colourful plastic bracelets thank-you-very-much. But Michelle had had one, she had worn it. All the time. Her time at Blackwell must have meant a lot to her.
A metallic rattle drew Max's attention and when she glanced up, she saw Chloe shaking the memento box. "Dude, I want to know what it's here."
It was chilly in the tent thanks to the cool November nights, and Chloe was bundled up in her winter jacket and scarf. Max's fingers felt like icicles and she rubbed them together to warm them up. It was hard to believe that just a few minutes ago they'd been cuddled up together in their birthday suits.
Raising the box to eye level, Chloe peered at the tiny lock and tried to stick one of her nails into it. No go. She turned it around in her hands, scowling at it. Max couldn't resist–she grabbed her dad's camera from its case and snapped a photo of Chloe puzzling over the box.
"Don't you get bored of all these pics of me, hippie?"
"Never," Max said, smiling and sliding over to sit by Chloe. She showed her the picture and Chloe shrugged.
"It's just me."
"Exactly." Max leaned her head on Chloe's shoulder. Setting down the box, Chloe leaned her cheek against Max's head and curled one arm around her waist.
"Should we try for another of these trippy vision things? Or are you all time-travelled out?"
Max sighed. "I think I've had enough excitement for one day."
Chloe's arm tightened around Max's waist. "And here I was hoping we could pick up where we left off." Max snuck her hand under Chloe's jacket and then her shirt and pressed her chilled fingers against Chloe's ribs. "Fuck! Or not. Maybe not." She snatched Max's fingers and then, with a grin, "We can just chill instead."
Max rolled her eyes. "You are so obvious."
"With all this weird shit going on, I'm thinking obvious is just what you need."
And Max had to agree with that. Hella agree.